


you're hot but i'm on fire

by putsch



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 16:44:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5709646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/putsch/pseuds/putsch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SWAG prompt: Abe sucks on Mihashi's fingers while he bangs him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're hot but i'm on fire

**Author's Note:**

> sorry kids i am a filth monster

Abe has always had a _thing_ about Mihashi's hands.

 

Not that he'd ever admit it, but he doesn't have to, not when Mihashi figured it out quickly after they began dating. It was a moment of silent recognition when Mihashi caught him staring, or realized the way he ran his fingers over thick pitcher callouses had nothing to do with professional baseball interest and everything to do with personal pleasure.

And honestly, who could blame him? Those hands hold so much power, so much skill, the weathered proof of brunt hard work and desperate clawing to the top. Yet for everything they have done, Mihashi's hands are still the tender tellers of his heart. Abe can feel it in the way he holds his hand, in the way he runs his fingers through his hair, and later, in the darkness of the clubroom, uses them to peel Abe out of his clothes. Mihashi, with nothing more than his hands and soft murmurs of kisses have brought Abe, very literally, to his knees more than once.

Today is no different.

Abe's breath hitches as Mihashi pushes his lubed finger in to the last knuckle, curling and pressing experimentally in Abe's ass. He groans, hips rolling back into them on reaction, his forearms bared into the bench. The initial stretch is odd, but Abe's not here for odd.

"More, please." He's not above begging, not to Mihashi. He can feel the way Mihashi shivers by his side from it, and that's more than enough. He knows that Mihashi will answer him flawlessly with those clever fingers.

And he does, Mihashi's finger twisting inside him until there's enough for a second, and Abe spreads his braces his knees wider to signal for a third. It reminds him of the burn of sitting in the catcher's position too long.

Mihashi, the glorious pitcher he is, reads the signal perfectly and hits at the best spot, setting Abe's blood on fire, moaning loud enough to make it echo off the walls.

"S-Shh!" Mihashi half whispers at his side, and Abe rolls his head aside to give Mihashi a look.

"No one is gonna come in, it's fine--" Abe starts, his voice gruff, but Mihashi doesn't let him end the sentence as he presses his a clean finger against his lips. Abe wants to sigh, but he doesn't, holding it in for his nervous as ever pitcher. It's true that the locker room was open to any of them, but at this hour? It's all theirs.

"Shhhh." Mihashi says again, his eyes a little more distant, staring at Abe, something working behind that endless gold. Abe furrows his eyebrows, trying to figure out what it means.

They really have to work on their communication after all. "What is it, Ren?" he eventually says, soft against Mihashi's hand before he kisses the palm.

That seems to work, or work enough, because Mihashi takes a deep breath and presses his finger harder on Abe's lips. "O.. O-Open your mouth."

Oh, this is new. But Abe doesn't question it, only does as he's told.

Mihashi's hesitation in his speech is no where to be seen in his actions as he slides his fingers against Abe's tongue and down his throat. Abe gasps around it, eyes wide, taking in the taste of sweat and dust that's curled so deeply in Mihashi's fingertips.

 _"Sh."_ Mihashi reiterates, close enough that his breath tickles Abe's ear, and twists the fingers in Abe's ass hard in time with the ones in his mouth.

Abe's brain goes completely blank as his cock twitches hard between his legs, cum already spilling from the tip and onto the floor. All he knows are those fingers, his hips rolling back into the way Mihashi curls his right hand and sucking around the gentle thrust of his left. He says nothing, even swallowing down his groans behind those long fingers, the only sounds in the locker room the wet sounds of lube and spit. How ever Mihashi figured this was what he wanted, what he needed, holy shit he does not know. He's going to have bruises on his arms and knees from the bench and the floor, but when Mihashi drags his fingers rough against the perfect spot to light his nerves aflame it's worth it and then some.

It takes no time at all before Mihashi's hands are peeling Abe apart, body arching in every direction for more, eyes fluttering shut as he loses himself in pure sensation. He can almost hear Mihashi's heavy breathing over the sound of him dragging his teeth over those perfect, perfect fingers. It's too good, and Abe just needs that little bit more to finish. He tries to adjust his thighs to get some pressure on his dick, but it's near impossible when Mihashi is splaying him open.

He feels Mihashi shift, and can't tell if he's excited or nervous at the prospect of Mihashi pulling his fingers away.

Thankfully, he doesn't, only leans forward to whisper to him again. "Oh Takaya, you look, amazing..."

The way Mihashi says his name, breathless, praising him like it's him getting this incredible treatment, sends him over the edge. His moan is garbled and wet around Mihashi's fingers, clinging desperately to the bench for balance as his body shakes uncontrollably through his orgasm.

When he comes down from it, gasping for breath, he sees Mihashi stroking himself, hand over his mouth like he's trying to be quiet too. Ridiculous, Abe thinks, as he takes his wet hand away, giving it a weak squeeze and kisses him on the mouth, over and over until Mihashi finishes too.

 

Abe finds himself unable to look at those hands for a week.


End file.
